Noir
by Shimegami
Summary: *Chapter Five Uploaded* Chiaki rambles, and something happens...
1. Prologue

NOIR  
  
  
  
By Shimegami  
  
Warnings: AU, Dark, Miyako…bitchation? Yamato bastardation  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.  
  
  
  
AN: Well, this fic originated by my idea of creating a Marmalade Boy/Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne fusion. However, it quickly escalated into something much more dark and haunting. It soon became a strange tale of how one eliminates darkness when it already has gained control, and of the delicate balance of light and darkness. So read on.  
  
Do I sound like a textbook here? -_-;;;;  
  
  
  
Prologue  
  
Destiny is never one to be trifled with. She always finds a way to bring about her future, and exacts a terrible revenge on those who stand in her way. It is known that her victims are no more that wretched souls who have long ago abandoned the hope of life.  
  
Destiny is not God's creation, nor is she alone. She is the sister of Hate, daughters of the fallen angel Lucifer, created by him to stand against Love and Freedom, God's beautiful daughter. The two are of similar power, and, as such, are the polar opposites of each other. Love is the very essence of goodwill and purity, of everything good and right, while Hate is the queen of vengeance and spite, evil and dark. The two have long been at war with each other, fighting to eliminate the other from existence. However, they each fought in different ways. Love cast herself into different mortal forms, fighting off Hate's influence on humans. Hate merely stayed in the background, a dark shadow in the minds of men. Hate made humans stray form the light, deceiving them to think that their horrible actions were in the right.  
  
The two have fought against each other since they were created, and will continue to do so, until either one or both is eliminated.  
  
However, this fighting soon got out of hand. Love's latest crusade as the noble Jeanne d'Arc had both failed and succeeded. She had loosened Hate's control over the mortal realm of Britain, but she had been killed and she was still weak from the battle of spirits. Love was immobilized for the next few centuries. Hate refused to fight with her opponent crippled. She swore that she would fight Love in person next time, but she still influenced minds in the human world.  
  
So, God and the Devil made the first and last pact between them.  
  
God took the soul of the first human he had created, Adam, and fused that soul with His power. Lucifer did likewise with his most corrupted human soul, and infused it with utter darkness. They held these souls in their care, nurturing them and feeding them power, until the time that Love and Hate could begin their fights again. So, when Love and Hate prepared themselves to cast their souls into human form, God and the Devil got ready, too. The two daughters went into the mortal realm to be born mortal. And God and Lucifer cast the souls they had cared for into humans, as well. These two beings, one good and one evil, would be drawn to their "mate", or the one aligned with the same supernatural power. So Love and Hate would have to moderate their fights because they held something else dear to their hearts, now. It was rather ironic that Love was to be chained by her namesake.  
  
But something happened that they did not intend.  
  
They had forgotten Destiny and Freedom, the lesser children. Angered at being forgotten, they conspired and threw the timeline out of order. Love and her "mate" were thrown far apart by unstoppable means, and Hate and her "mate" were cut off from the Devil's control.  
  
And so Destiny created a new fate for the world.  
  
This is where our story begins, at the cleaving of the known path… 


	2. Chapter One: Yami

Noir  
  
  
  
Chapter One  
  
AN: Wheee, first chapter!  
  
"…" – English conversations  
  
"/…/" – Japanese conversations  
  
"*…*" – any other language/telepathy  
  
  
  
Chapter One: Yami  
  
The airport was filled with bustling people, all running here or there to meet someone or catch that missed flight. Nobody stopped to pay attention to the small blue-haired boy wandering around the place, and certainly nobody thought to stop and ask the child if he was lost.  
  
For lost he was, and hopelessly, too. He had let go of his father's hand to investigate something shiny lying on the ground (it had turned out to be a gum wrapper), and when he had looked back up, his father was gone.  
  
Surprisingly enough, the little boy wasn't scared. He simply knew that his father wasn't in sight, and no one looked familiar. In a strangely adult reasoning, he had assumed that if he were to remain in more or less the same place, his father would surely find him.  
  
So the little boy wandered around in circles, waiting for his father to come pick him up.  
  
What the boy did not know was that Destiny's anger at being forgotten had changed his life forever.  
  
His father had, in his haste (and aided in his memory loss by a vengeful spirit), forgotten his son and boarded his plane back to Japan. It is in fact a good thing he had left the child, because later the flight crashed. There were no survivors.  
  
So, it wasn't until the tragic accident did anyone think to check the little boy wandering around.  
  
"Little boy, are you lost?"  
  
He blinked at the unfamiliar words. He hadn't understood anything during his father's business trip, as he was only six and native Japanese. So the meanings of the sounds spoken at him were lost.  
  
"I said, are you lost?" The attendant asked again, frustrated and saddened by that plane crash.  
  
"/I don't know what you're saying./"  
  
The attendant frowned at the language. Was that Chinese? Wait, that plane that went down was going to Japan…could he have been forgotten by one of its passengers? Her face softened immediately. That poor boy!  
  
The attendant, whose name was Sarah, smiled down at the child. "Don't worry; I'm going to find someone who can talk to you." Grabbing him by the hand, she led the child down to the translation area, where she was most likely to find a Japanese-speaking person. She approached the counter person.  
  
"Hey, Bridgette, do you know any Japanese translators?"  
  
The bouncy redhead looked at her friend, and then over the counter at the young boy in tow.  
  
"Yeah, sure, I'll phone him up for you."  
  
Sarah smiled, relieved. "Thanks. I have no idea what this kid is speaking, but Japanese is my logical guess."  
  
Bridgette rung up Kizuki, waiting for the Japanese-American college student to pick up the phone.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hey, Kizu, Sarah's here and she's got a kid in tow. She has no idea what language he's speaking, but we're guessing it's Japanese, so we need you."  
  
"Okay, be right there."  
  
She hung up the phone, sighing. "Okay, he'll be up in a few. Why don't you go sit on the benches?"  
  
Sarah followed her friend's instructions, the kid once more following. They sat on the bench, waiting for Kizuki.  
  
Before long he showed up, messy as usual. "So Bridge-chan, where's this kid?"  
  
She pointed to the benches. "The blue-haired one next to Sarah."  
  
He grinned, before flashing her a saucy smile and kiss. "Gotcha, hot- stuff. Be back after I deal with him."  
  
He sauntered over, mentally inspecting the child. Odd, how his hair matched his eyes like that. He was also very disciplined, sitting perfectly still and silent. He watched the going-ons around him with wonder, his eyes wide.  
  
Kneeling before the kid, he flashed Sarah a smile in greeting before seriously paying attention to the boy.  
  
"/Hi, kid, my name's Kizuki. What's yours?/"  
  
The child beamed, happy that he could understand someone at last.  
  
"Ore wa Nagoya Chiaki desu!"  
  
~TBC~  
  
AN: Ha! Cliffhanger! 


	3. Interlude One

AN: Yes, I have absolutely no idea where this fic is going. So, until more inspiration strikes, I shall give you an Interlude! These Interludes are merely strange dreams or visions the characters have. Onto the first one!  
  
  
  
The first thing I am aware of is the screams.  
  
Screams that were created by human voices, but were so desperate and anguished that it sounded like they came from the mouths of demons. They don't even have true voices, their real ones long ago faded by endless shrieks.  
  
I am not screaming. I just sit still in the freezing cold, hugging myself tightly in a futile attempt to ward off such cold. It wasn't the chill of an artic front or even the below-zero temperatures of the poles. No, this was absolute zero, the cold of outer space far away form stars or other warmth-giving bodies.  
  
This is Hell.  
  
I always felt like laughing at other people's descriptions of "downstairs". Descriptions of searing heat and lava and little half-goat monstrosities that wave around pitchforks, waiting to stick you with them. The description the TV evangelist gives you with dire threats that if you don't do such and such and donate your good money, then you'll go straight down there.  
  
Quite frankly, I would gladly go there instead of be here.  
  
The cold has long ago frozen my body beyond living terms. I shouldn't be conscious. Hell, I shouldn't be alive. But I sit here, with a heartbeat that echoes in my ears above the voiceless screams and shivering desperately against the cold that has already made me a living ice sculpture.  
  
I want someone beside me.  
  
Even if it is one of those soulless desperate wretches that stare with unseeing eyes, who have had their essences ripped from them and all their feelings drained to nothingness. At least I wouldn't be alone.  
  
But most of all, I want her by my side.  
  
Her light would pierce the never-ending darkness and warm my frozen soul. She would make everything better again. I would pay anything just to be by her side for a few moments. I would cherish those moments forever, even if I ended up back here, I would still have the memories of her and those would never be taken away from me. They would be the candle I would hold up to this darkness, this noir, which would be weak and sputtering but the light would never go out.  
  
But…  
  
But she isn't here. I'm stuck in this place with screams woven of silence and a cold so deep it is the very depth of darkness itself.  
  
I am stuck here, with others who can't qualify as souls anymore, and I can't escape. I can only remember how the sun felt on my skin and on the grass beneath my feet. I can only remember how it felt to have the wind blow through my hair and the flowers. The things on Earth that I always took for granted, those precious tiny simple things that are my only hope in this.  
  
I want someone beside me.  
  
I want her beside me.  
  
Flower and wind, sunshine and grass, she is all those things. She is my hope.  
  
But she isn't here.  
  
I hate this.  
  
~TBC~  
  
AN: …………………………..Gah. 


	4. Chapter Two: Schwarzung

AN: Dude, look, the next chapter! x_X Man, inspiration comes really slowly for this fic. -_- Any suggestions are still welcome.  
Yeah, this fic skips, but who cares?  
  
Chapter Two: Schwarzung  
  
Maron anxiously fiddled with her gymnastics ribbon, waiting for the instuctor to appear. She was trying out for the rhythmic  
gymnastics team of her new high school and really hoped she got in. Gymnastics were the highlight of her teenage life, and  
provided a distraction to the emptiness she faced every time she went home.  
  
Just when Maron thought the butterflies in her stomach were about to explode from their confinement, the sensei appeared.  
She was a woman that seemed to be in her mid-twenties, with long flowing violet hair and eyes to match. She was pretty;  
like a flower in full bloom.  
  
But flowers were always destined to wilt and die, and so one day her beauty would fade and die as well. Maron yanked herself  
from her depressing thoughts and turned her full attention to the woman.  
  
"Good afternoon, young ladies. Today you will be tested in your prowness in rhythmic gymnastics. Those who do best will be  
accepted onto the school team and will compete and hold up our school's name. I am Packkelemo-sensei, and you will address  
me as such. Any questions?"  
  
The assembled girls murmured a general negative, and waited for Packkelemo-sensei to continue.  
  
"Well, since I have no questions, we'll start. I'll call you out alphabetically, then you will preform the preset routine. Got it? Good.  
First up, Aisha Tokiko!"  
  
As a shy girl with sable hair stepped forward, Maron let her mind wander over the routine one last time. it was fairly simple for her;  
she had been doing gymnastics for five years now. She snuck a glance towards Miyako, her best friend since primary school. The  
violet-haired girl (a different shade then the sensei's) was wearing a look of intense concentration that was normally reserved for her  
detective work. She smiled briefly at her firend's discomfort, then started as her own name was called.  
  
"Kusakabe Maron!"  
  
She stepped forward, smiling at Packkelemo-sensei. The woman acknowledged her with a nod and she began.  
  
She flowed through the movements naturally, earning a few jealous whispers from the other girls. Sensei raised her eyebrows,  
impressed by her skill. She finished it smoothly and in record time, and Packkelemo-sensei applauded.  
  
"Well done, Kusakabe, you have talent."  
  
Maron blushed and thanked the teacher with a smile, and returned to her spot in the group. A few girls later, it was Miyako's turn.  
She had been with Maron for all the years they had done gymnastics, so she was nearly as good, but she lacked Maron's natural  
grace. She, too, finished the routine perfectly, and was applauded by the sensei. Soon the last two girls were finished and the  
teacher stepped foward, holding her clipboard in hand.  
  
"Okay, judged on your preformance, I have written down those who have the most talent and are the most likely to succeed.  
I will call your names now."  
  
Clearing her throat, she began to read names.  
  
"Aisha Tokiko."  
  
The first girl squealed and bounced with her friends.  
  
"Hoshisora Chikara"  
  
Another girl, a burnette like Maron, squealed as well, and the girls skipped between those two names groaned.  
  
"Kusakabe Maron."  
  
Maron felt a silly grin appear on her face, and she turned to Miyako, who gave her the victory sign.  
  
"Namedaka Momiji"  
  
Another squeal, a few more groans.  
  
"Toudaiji Miyako."  
  
Miyako let out an exuberant "Yatta!!" and sweatdropped as Packkelemo-sensei glared at her. Clearing he rthroat again, the sensei  
continued.  
  
"And finally Shijitaka Hikaru. I thank the rest of you for trying again, please note that you may try again next semester. The six that  
were chosen, please follow me." With those words, Packkelemo-sensei lead the six successful candidates towards a small room at the  
back of the dojo-turned-dance-studio. It turned out to be the dressing room. She turned and faced the girls, professionalism written across  
her face.  
  
"First of all, let's go over the rules. You will be here everyday before and after school, unless I say otherwise. Any frsshman, you have to  
arrange the equipment before practice."  
  
At that Maron, Miyako, and another girl groaned.  
  
"No complaining! It's a rule! Next, every Wednesday, you are to report to the gardens to plant flowers. You must be as beautiful as flowers,  
and to do that you must learn to care for them."  
  
Maron found it almost scary that sensei was exactly how she had thought her.  
  
"You must provide your own workout clothes, which must be a leotard and a shirt to provide some modesty. Don't be late, or there will  
be consequences."  
  
Maron blanched at that and she saw Miyako give her a warning glare. Heh, she'd better start waking up to that alarm clock...  
  
"Those are the rules, I hope you all understood them well. I want you to show up at 7:30 tomorrow with your workout clothing, and  
practice will begin then. For now, I dismiss you girls. Have a nice afternoon."  
  
The assembled group murmured a general "Hai, sensei" and got up to leave, three of the girls turning to chat excitedly. Maron ambled  
over to Miyako, who was still glaring at her. Maron sweatdropped as she turned without a word and began to walk outside. She rushed  
to catch up. Soon they were on their way home. At length, Miyako turned to Maron.  
  
"You heard what she said. You'd better start being on time for once or I'll be getting in trouble!"  
  
Maron sweatdropped some more.  
  
"Demo Miyako, I never said you have to walk to school with me!"  
  
"We live across from each other! We have to walk to school together!"  
  
Maron sighed. Miyako was really stubborn about some things. /Not that you aren't either!/ She chastised herself. Now was not a time to  
start dwelling on shortcomings. She still had a load of homework to do, as it was only the second week into classes. Mostly review and  
other easy things, but apparently the senseis wanted to compensate that by simply giving them more of it. She sighed. Sometimes teacher's  
logic defied her understanding.  
  
They arrived at the apartment complex, and Maron felt her spirits drop as she headed for her daily ritual towards the inevitably empty mailbox.  
Miyako watched her sadly, she couldn't help her best friend during this and she cursed herself for being weak.  
  
Maron opened the box and the impossible had happened. A letter was in her mailbox.  
  
She stared at it, unable to comprehend the fact that something was actually waiting for her. Slowly a hopeful smile and tears grew across her face  
as she delicately picked up the small white envelope. Miyako watched, amazement and hope written across her features as well as she watched  
her best friend open her letter.  
  
As she watched, Maron withdrew two sheets of paper. She red one, frowned confusedly, and read the other. Slow understanding dawned on her face  
and the smile returned full-force and she hugged the letter to her chest, before pulling it back and re-reading it, the frown returning.  
  
Unable to contain her curiosity any longer, Miyako dashed over to her best friend's side.  
  
"What is it? Who's it form? What does it say?"  
  
Maron looked at her, puzzlement written all over her features, and handed her the papers.  
  
One had an address on it, an American address. She then realized that the postage on the envelope itself was American as well. She then looked at the  
other paper, which had script flowing across it in neatly written kanji. She read it out loud.  
  
"Dear Kusakabe Maron,  
  
This letter was sent to inform you that your parents wished for you to be as happy as you could possible be. They regret to inform you that while they  
love you very much, they cannot yet return to your side as their troubles have not yet been worked out. Therefore you are invited to stay for one summer at  
the White Cross Oaks Foster Home for Children of Disrupted Families. When the summer visit is over, you may choose to either return to living as you had  
in Japan or stay here until you can move out. You may also bring two friends along with you for the summer stay.  
  
Should you wish to return to live in Japan after the visit, you and your friends will be not be bothered again by us.  
  
Should you wish to stay, you will be sent back to Japan for two weeks to gather your belongings and withdraw from the educational facility that you are enrolled  
in. You will be sent a one-way ticket to the U.S.A. during this time. Please leave or sell any furniture you may possess, and only bring clothing and   
other such personal effects, as furniture will be provided for you.  
  
Please consider our offer when you come this summer. We sincerely wish you stay, as White Cross Oaks has excellent facilties and an upstanding private  
Catholic school nearby. We house over 200 children with situations similar to yours, and many friends may be made.  
  
The tickets for you and the two frinds you may invite are being sent, and should arrive within a day or so of receiving this letter.  
  
We sincerely hope you will enjoy your stay at White Cross Oaks, and can only pray we will be able to house a wonderful young woman such as yourself.  
  
Sincerely,  
Sister Mary Johnsen  
Director and head Sister of White Cross Oaks"  
  
Miyako looked at Maron, her face as confused as her friend's. Only one thought ran through both their minds. It was Maron who finally voiced it.  
  
"My parents want me to live in a foster home in America??"  
  
~TBC~  
AN: hah! Cliffhanger! ;P I know, Chiaki isn't in this chapter, but next chapter will be all about him! ^o^  
  
Pleeeeaaaase review this people? ;_; People seem to boycott reviewing my stories lately. ;_; Review, for the love of all good and bishounen! 


	5. Chapter Three: Kuroi

AN: Woohoo, next chapter. ^o^ Today is a good day. Now, in this chapter, let's find out what happened to our dear Chiaki who was stranded in America when he was six.  
  
Chapter 3: Kuroi  
  
Shuffling into his room, Nagoya Chiaki wasted no time in throwing his schoolbag to the side and flopping onto his bed. Unfortunately, his schoolbag just happened to be in a direct path for his roommate.  
  
"Ow! Watch where you're throwing, Chiaki!"  
  
He managed to lift his head to glare blearly at his roommate. He was a good friend, but he could be downright annoying. Especially when Chiaki hadn't slept well the night before. Not that he slept well often, it was just that he wanted to at least grab an hour of sleep before his freakish dreams forced him out of it. He grumbled something that was a cross between a curse and an apology and let his head flop back down. His roommate giggled nervously.  
  
"Heh heh....bad dreams again?"  
  
Chiaki looked at him like he was an idiot. For the past five years they had been roommates, and for the past two years he had been having the nightmares. And he still asks? Sometimes his roommate's logic failed to explain itself to Chiaki.  
  
His roommate, Michael Townsend, was strange in the fact that he, like Chiaki, was not American by nationality or birth. He was British, and as such could be very proper. Although he still had to beat Chiaki at politeness, (Japanese society was after all ingrained with it) he was very cultured and could charm his way into any female's heart, be it a young girl just arriving here or the old lady who gave them all home-baked brownies every Friday.  
  
He sighed and let himself drift. He remembered how he got here, of course, how could any child forget that? He had had no other relatives except for a distant cousin who's exact words were "Do what you want with the little child, I have no need for him." They had tried to send him back to Japan, but he had refused to get on a plane, no matter how safe it was promised to be. Even now he was still wary of them, though he would get on one if asked. First, they had intended to send him back when he got over his fear, but Chiaki had grown to like the White Cross Oaks fostering home and had friends. He refused to leave them, and they had no choice but to make him a ward of the state and leave him there. He was technically up for adoption, but no one wanted a child who could barely speak their language. Even now he still messed up sometimes, or forgot a word. He was thankful that the college student at the airport, Kizuki, had been kind enough to tutor him in both Japanese and English. Now he was fluent in English, Japanese, and French thanks to schooling. he sighed and rolled over, contemplating if he should just give up sleep and do his homework, or to try to sleep and do it later. It was decided for him though, when against his will his eyelids fell closed and soon he was drifting off in slumber.  
  
//It was dark again.  
  
The darkness was huge and threatened to enroach and destroy the little island of light that She created. He clung to Her form desperately, wishing against all odds that they'd pull through this, that at least She shouldn't die. She was Light and Good and Purity, all in one form. She was beautiful and perfect.  
  
She didn't deserve to die.  
  
The darkness turned into a mob of soldiers clad in jet black armor, screaming threats in an obsene language. He wished he could cover his ears, but he knew that f he let go of Her that he would die. The thought didn't bother him as much as the fact that if he let go She would die as well. So he clung to Her with all of his remaining strength, and stood his ground.  
  
She expected to die.  
  
He knew that, and so did She. They would not make it out alive. But he would be damned if they took Her first without a fight on his part. Her hands covered his own and for a second all he knew was the strength and love that was Her and the darkness faded away and all was light and nothing outside mattered. Then the darkness came crashing back in and he almost cried at being torn from the feeling, had he any tears left for crying.  
  
She stood Her ground against the darkness, a valiant yet vain attempt. Hordes of black soldiers died screaming deaths as they crashed against the dazzling barrier of light, but more came, and slowly the barrier was losing its brilliance.  
  
She was dying.  
  
He clutched Her tighter, and added what strength he had left to the barrier. A faint red shine strengthened it, but it would not last, he knew. His strength was already fading. Suddenly She turned and looked at him, and Her eyes were filled with sadness, yet She smiled and let Her love for him shine through. He wasn't worthy of Her love, but She gave it to him anyway. As he looked into Her eyes, he knew what would happen. The barrier was about to fall, they would die. Yet he didn't feel regretful. He had met Her, had loved her, and She had loved him in return. He could be damned to the farthest reaches of Hell, but he would still be content with his life. If he had a regret, it was only one, borne of the sorrow that he hadn't been able to live out his life with Her, that both of their lives had been horribly cut short by a war that shouldn't have happened. He prayed fervently to Her God that he had never found a cause to believe in before, praying that Her soul would be spared and that She be happy for all ages. He didn't pray for himself; why should he? He was damned since he fell in love with God's Chosen. He just hoped that She wouldn't get punished for loving him in return.  
  
The barrier finally collapsed, and all was darkness.//  
  
Chiaki sat up and gasped. After a few seconds, he regained his composure and flopped back down. Michael was gone; probably off flirting with one of the girls around the facility. The dreams again, though he had never had such a bad one as this. All he could remember of it was darkness, and a shining faint light that he remembered holding, and a pair of beautiful lavender eyes that shone with strength and light.  
  
Those eyes...  
  
Chiaki shook off the sense of misgiving he had and looked at the digital clock beside his bed. He sweatdropped when he realized he only had thirty minutes to get ready for dinner. Uttering a curse he rarely used except in his mind, Chiaki grabbed his dinner clothes and rushed to the bathroom.  
  
He mangaed to make it with minutes to spare, still adjusting the tie as he rushed down the hallway. Why did dinner have to be so formal? All the girls were in nice dresses and the boys in suits. He felt overdressed.  
  
Standing behind his assigned place, Chiaki let his eyes wander. Michael stood a few seats down, demeanor serious for once. A girl his age stood across from him, blond hair and blue-eyed. Her name was Christine, and she annoyed everyone in the foster home. She had come from a high up family from New york, and thought she was better than everyone else. It took both Chiaki and Michael to get her off her high horse, as MIchael came from actual nobility in England and Chiaki's natural diplomatic skills.  
  
The Head Sister finally walked into the room. Head Sister Mary was someone to be reckoned with. Years of training the harshest children into meek obediance had left it's mark on the motherly nun as her smile had a sharp edge to it and her voice was kindly but firm.  
  
She stood behind the chair at the head of the table and began the evening's ritual by greeting the children.  
  
"Good evening, children."  
  
"Good evening, Sister Mary." Everyone chorused back dutifully.  
  
She bowed her head and clasped her hands to signal that blessing was about to begin, and was copied by all the children. She recited the prayer from memory, and finished with everyone chorusing "Ahem" at the end. She stood standing, surveying the children with a hawk's eye, and the began her announcement.  
  
"Children, as you know, we are approaching the end of the school year. Summer will come and then we will have a visitor. Her name is Maron Kusakabe and she comes from Japan."  
  
She had Chiaki's full attention now.  
  
"She has been invited to stay the summer here with two friends, and if she likes it, she will become a resident. Mr. Nagoya?"  
  
"Ha-err, Yes, Sister?"  
  
"As you are our only Japanese speaking ward at the moment, and as you and Mrs. Kusakabe are of like age, I want you to guide her and her friends around the grounds and such. Do you understand?"  
  
"Yes, Sister."  
  
"Very good. Now then, since I do not wish to deter you any longer, you may sit and the meal will be served. Thank you."  
  
The elderly nun sat, and then all of the children followed her example. Other nuns came bearing the food and drinks, and quiet chatter started up. Normally, Chiaki would engage in some sort of conversation with the people next to him, but he had other things on his mind at the moment. He absently ate his food as his thoughts meandered.  
  
A girl from Japan? And his age as well? What was she doing coming to foster home at her age, and in America of all places? He briefly wondered if she would be pretty, then shook himself. He wouldn't think such thoughts until he actually met her. Although he did hope she wasn't obnoxious or horribly bad-looking. He was only human after all.  
  
He finished his dinner in silence, with Michael staring at him. He normally was cheerful and talkative during dinner, but now Chiaki was pensive and quiet. Chiaki didn't know if it was from the announcement or his dream.  
  
Beautiful lavender eyes...a color given only to those beings who were graced by God. A color given only to angels.  
  
He shook his head and set his fork down. He wasn't hungry anymore, and he wanted to do his homework. People were leaving now, politely excusing themselves and then leaving. He too got up, excused himself, and left for his room.  
  
Michael wasn't back yet, so he had a while to himself. He picked up his math book, some paper and a pencil, and laid down on his bed to do his homework.  
  
He, of course, wasn't expecting a tiny enraged shout to sound from somewhere in the vincity beneath his stomach.  
  
He rocketed off the bed as if Head Sister Mary was laying in it wearing nothing but her smile. he gave a shudder at that image, and looked at the crumpled sheets warily. Lying on them was a tiny crumpled object, dark against the stark whiteness. He noticed some things atached to the thing, that fluttered and twitched, releasing a few tiny black....feathers? Wings?  
  
As he watched, the object slowly arranged itself into a tiny person with indeed black wings. An angel? To say Chiaki was shocked an confused was an understatement.  
  
The small angel began spewing many unangelic words, and Chiaki sweatdropped. At length the angel stopped cursing and seemd to levitate off the bed, coming to hover before his face.  
  
"It's not very funny to sit on me!"  
  
Chiaki wasn't sure how to reply to this, so he sweatdropped and asked the first thing that came to mind.  
  
"Uhh...just...what are you?"  
  
The angel instantly changed moods, a fanged grin spread over his face as he proudly introduced himself.  
  
"I am kuroitenshi Access Time, and I have an assignment for you!"  
  
~TBC~  
  
AN: Muah. Another cliffhanger. I am so evil. ^o^ So, what will happen when Chiaki and Maron meet? Will Maron accept the offer to live at White Cross Oaks? Will the author ever finish the author notes? -_-;; 


	6. Chapter Four: Obscurite

AN: Wee, new chapter! Waaai. Of course, it's posting was greatly delayed due to ff.net shutting down for weeks, and personal laziness. Revel in the new chapter-ness.  
  
Chapter Four: Kuroi  
  
Maron watched the plane nervously. She, Miyako, and Yamato were getting ready to board it for their summer stay at the American foster home. Even after having several months to become accustomed to the idea, she still couldn't believe that her parents wanted her to do this. Still, something felt distinctly *right* about this, even if Miyako and Yamato were firmly against it. She just felt that it was something that she should do.  
  
"Flight number 4561 from Tokyo to Seattle is now boarding. Please form an orderly line and present your boarding passes for verification."  
  
Maron steeled herself as she walked towards the boarding ramp, ticket in hand. Even if she didn't stay there, she still was obliged to give it serious thought, no matter how against it her best friends were.  
  
Her parents did request it, after all.  
  
Giving the airline employee a sunny smile as she handed her ticket over, Maron didn't worry about it anymore. Her destiny was waiting for her in America, somehow, and she would face it with a smile.  
  
As the plane took off, heading for its destination, no one noticed the small green ball of light that floated around the gate, before giving a frustrated shout and flying off.  
  
Fin Fish had missed her chance.  
  
*America*  
  
Chiaki sat with Sister Mary and Sister Francais, waiting for the flight that carried their Japanese visitor and her two friends. He was worried. What was this girl like? Would she stay? What would she think of him? This last thought was not from a hope of romatic pursual, but rather scared self-conciousness. He was going to be by this girl's side nearly 24/7, and if she didn't like him, there would be problems. Problems such as a young non-English speaking attractive girl trying to find her way around the city alone. He had recently seen her picture, and had been pleased that she was attractive, if in a nice, normal way. It wouldn't do her any good trying to ask directions from people who were less than honorable.  
  
Chiaki shifted. He was bored, and worried, and airports always made him nervous. It, of course, didn't help that this was the very airport that had been the pivotal turnpoint of his life ten years ago.  
  
Sister Mary noticed his figdeting and calmy smiled at him, laying a hand on his arm to soothe him. He gave her a thin smile back. He hated airports.  
  
Of course, just as the plane was landing, Chiaki's pocket decided to move. Or rather, something in the pocket.  
  
Pasting a large grin on his face, Chiaki excused himself from the sisters, lying smoothly that he had to go to the bathroom. He felt slightly bad about it, but he *would* be in the bathroom, just not for the normal reasons, so he didn't feel too bad.  
  
Chiaki calmly walked in, relaxing when no one else was in it. He instantly reached into his pocket and yanked out Access Time, who began gasping for air and praising the Lord for allowing him to breathe once again. Chiaki was not impressed with this show of melodramatics.  
  
"I thought I told you not to move!" He growled at the tiny kuroitenshi, who smiled weakly and fluttered out of grabbing range.  
  
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I just couldn't stand it anymore! I had to move, or I wouldv'e gone crazy!" Access waved his arms a little, trying to defend himself from his angry ward.  
  
Chiaki just glared. Of all the guardian angels, he just had to get the claustrophobic one, despite the fact that there were very few places that something his size could be claustrophobic in. Still, he couldn't entirely blame the tiny being. He had stayed still for nearly an hour straight, quite an accomplishment for something so energetic.  
  
Chiaki sighed, deciding he had been gone long enough and needed to get back. The girl (Maron, think of her as Maron, Chiaki, she has a name) was probably already off the plane and they were all waiting for him.  
  
"Just be glad that I can't strangle you in public without the threat of being sectioned." He hissed at Access as he grabbed the angel and shoved him back into his pocket.  
  
Arranging his face into an expression of polite indifference, Chiaki walked out of the bathroom. His eyes went for the gate, and sure enough, the two sisters were standing, talking to a girl he identified as Kusakabe Maron, and two other teenagers he assumed were the friends she had taken along. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself, and hoped he would make a good first impression on the girl he was going to be stuck with for two months.  
  
*Maron*  
  
Maron smiled politely at the two sisters who had risen to greet her. One of them obviously knew no word of Japanese at all, but the other one, taller and younger looking than her counterpart, greeted her in fairly decent, if accented, Japanese.  
  
"I welcome you to Seattle, Kusakabe-san." They both bowed, obviously taught to do so when greeting someone, and she bowed back, smiling at them.  
  
"I'm glad to be here, Sister. These are my friends, Toudaiji Miyako-" She pointed to her best friend on her left. "-and Minazuki Yamato." She pointed with her other hand to the class president shifting nervously on her right.  
  
The Sisters bowed to them as well, repeating their greeting to her friends. Miyako bowed flawlessly, smiling at the sisters. Yamato bowed shakily, and stuttered in his greeting, in his typical shy nature.  
  
The Sisters returned their attention Maron. "Kusakabe-san, I am Sister Francais-" The one who knew Japanese indicated herself. "-and this is Head Sister Mary, headmistress of White Oaks. We are pleased that you took up our offer of staying the summer and bringing friends."  
  
Maron bowed again to them, a little awed that the Head Sister herself had come to greet her. Then Sister Francais started speaking again, but it was in English and she was addressing the Head Sister about something. They conversed for a few minutes, before Sister Mary suddenly turned and began speaking to a blue-haired boy who had just walked up. Maron watched them exchange words with confusion. Who was this boy? He appeared about her age, and obviously knew the sisters. Just as the curiousity was forcing her to open her mouth to ask, the sisters and boy turned towards her and her group.  
  
Sister Francais took a step foward, and the boy came up to stand at her side. The sister smiled.  
  
"Kusakabe-san, this is Nagoya Chiaki. He is our only Japanese-speaking ward, and will be you and your friend's guide throughout your stay." Chiaki smiled and bowed.  
  
"Nice to meet you, Maron-san. I hope you enjoy your stay here."  
  
~*TBC*~  
  
AN: *cackles madly* I love cliffhangers. ^^ *gasp* Chiaki isn't such a ecchi in this! So how is he going to irritate Maron now? You'll have to wait for the next chapter to see! ^o^ V! 


	7. Interlude Two: Sometimes

AN: Well, lookie here. An update. My personal compy's internet is on the fritz, so I have to write this at school. Bleargh. This is only an interlude, because I feel like writing one, but it actually has plot advancement, and is from a much different point of view.  
  
Interlude Two: Sometimes.........  
  
I fiddle with my pen distractedly, listening to Sister Mary-Something-or- Other ramble on about ancient history. I don't care much about history; I find it pointless to discuss how ancient people ate halfway across the world. Chiaki isn't here today; he had to go pick up the foreign girl and her friends.  
  
The pen begins flipping, as I get more distracted. Chiaki would be interested in this lecture, he has an almost obsession with history. It's almost like he's searching for something sometimes. He especially likes the French heroine, Jeanne d'Arc. I wonder why, sometimes. The one time I asked out loud gained me a strange look and confusion. He's strongly confused about himself, Chiaki is. It's like he sometimes doesn't know who he is, and not just because he doesn't have any family.  
  
It's almost as if he's a different person sometimes........but only sometimes.  
  
I sigh. Pondering about my best friend was a habit I was getting into lately. There's just so many layers to him. And he's been keeping secrets lately. I've caught him talking to someone that isn't there. I wonder if he's going crazy.  
  
Well, that's what too much ancient history does to you.  
  
My eyes flicker back up to the nun teaching, and I try to appear as if I had been paying attention all the time I was in la-la land. It wouldn't do to be called on when I wasn't paying attention and didn't know the answer.  
  
I always try to find the answers for Chiaki. He's my best friend and roommate, I have to help him. But sometimes.........  
  
Sometimes I just don't know. Sometimes I can't help my best friend. And those sometimes are increasing, ever since he started dreaming, started keeping secrets.  
  
And sometimes I wonder, if those "sometimes" will ever change into "every time".  
  
And sometimes, I believe that will happen.  
  
Only sometimes.  
  
~TBC~  
  
AN: Well, so it isn't a chapter, sue me. I've been having issues with my compy lately. But I will try to work on my fanfics, and all my others fics. *Gets busy* 


	8. Chapter Five: Kage

AN: Well, me updates. :p  
  
Chapter Five: Kage  
  
The car ride was uneventful.  
  
Chiaki had discreetly released Access, who had flown off to look for demons. Really, why was he following the tiny kuroitenshi's instructions? It was getting harder to sneak by Michael at night to become Sinbad.  
  
His eyes shifted to his side. Kusakabe Maron was nearly glued to the window, as she watched the scenery flash by. Her brown hair fell neatly over her shoulder, obscuring any reflection of her expression Chiaki might have seen. In the seat behind him, he could hear her two friends quarreling.  
  
"-demo Toudaiji-san, we agreed-"  
  
"Hush, linchou! Maron is happy, and that's all that matters!"  
  
"Demo."  
  
He tuned them out, returning to the subject he had been thinking of before.  
  
It had been nearly seven months that he'd known the tiny being that called himself Access Time. And for about six months of that time, he had been playing the role of Kaitou Sinbad, the supposed thief who stole beautiful things.  
  
In reality, he sealed demons. He didn't understand it himself, but the first time he had done it.it was obvious that something more powerful than simple thievery was going on. He sealed the demons in the paintings; it was just an unfortunate side effect that the object happened to disappear.  
  
He felt lost, sometimes. Despite Access's speeches about demons and God and the Devil, and how a certain someone must be protected, he didn't get it. He just followed the angel's instructions. Not thinking about it helped him sleep better at night, if he slept at all.  
  
Besides, just whom was he protecting by doing this? Access wouldn't say, and he certainly didn't know. It was just one of the mysteries of being a Kaitou.  
  
Someone to protect.an image of golden hair and pure lavender eyes danced at him at the corner of his mind. He tried to grasp the thought, but it kept slipping away. Who.?  
  
"Nagoya-san!" His name startled him out of his reverie. He looked to the side, blinking.  
  
Maron looked at him expectantly. She had asked something, and he had no clue just what she asked. For a moment she had looked totally different. The sun was at such and angle that it flowed into the window behind her, lighting up her hair. For a moment she had golden hair, and her eyes-  
  
"I asked when are we going to there. We've been driving for a while, and I was wondering." She trailed off, mouth open slightly, and her eyes widened, focused on something behind him.  
  
He looked behind him, to see Access desperately clinging to the window, eyes swirly. Apparently the small kuroitenshi had spent all his energy trying to catch up to the car. However, when Access focused his eyes inside the car, he looked past Chiaki and saw Maron. The angel's eyes widened, and he leapt off the car, and flew off as fast as he could.  
  
Chiaki turned back to Maron, and she looked at him, shocked. He felt very nervous, all of a sudden.  
  
"That was." She breathed, eyes turned back to the small dot in the sky that was Access.  
  
"An angel."  
  
Chiaki was shocked. She had seen Access, despite the fact that no one else, not even the Sisters, could seen him. Something was different about Maron, much like something was different with himself.  
  
He cursed quietly under his breath. A certain kuroitenshi had a lot to explain later. But as he watched her, her face still shocked, he had an uneasy feeling that his whole life was just going to get worse from now on.  
  
~Tsuzuku~ 


End file.
